Mistake
by WelpLet'sWriteSomeRubbish
Summary: Draco just wanted to make him jealous. And now look what he'd done. He'd made a huge mistake. Or so he thought. (My first attempt at Drarry fic, a Scorbus one is coming.).
1. chapter 1

**Hello! Thought I'd try a Drarry story, so here it is. -Jack. *.**

Draco Malfoy sat on the cold steps, hands in his pale blond hair and just covering his eyes. The flickering candles held the physical darkness at bay, but not the internal, emotional darkness. That resided deep in his heart, and only one flame would illuminate that. He twisted a lock of hair around one finger, a nervous habit he normally kept under control. But now was not a time for control. He was beyond control. Beyond embarrassment, beyond anything. All that existed now was a terrible ache of longing, depression, and the realization that he'd ruined it all. "Why... why did I have to kiss _her,_ in front of _him_?" Draco moaned to himself, not realising it was aloud. It didn't matter anyway, nothing mattered. "Stupid jealousy stunt." He took his wand and, silently, drew a deep gouge along his arm. He shuddered, sucking in a breath. The wound healed, but its pain was still there, along with a scar that matched so many others; some fresh, some months old. It normally brought him clarity, but now his mind was unreachable, his heart inconsolable. Another moan tore itself from his lips. _Pansy Parkinson? Why, what stupid thought ran through my head, why would he be jealous, why, why why..._ Draco was full of whys. He flashed back to the moment, a terrible incident, one he'd give anything to take back.*.

 _Pansy looked at him. Potter looked at him. Granger looked at him. Weasley looked at him. But Draco only looked at Potter. His deep grey eyes, coloured like concrete flecked with little snowflakes of white, focused on his love. His only, single, eternal love. And then he put his arms around Pansy's waist, feeling her bony hips, barely any flesh on them. She slung her arms around his neck, and he fought the impulse to flinch. She_ repulsed _him. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on Potter, even as he fastened his mouth to Pansy's. She parted her lips, begging for entry, and he obliged. Potter turned away, and Draco watched him as he left the corridor, taking Weasley and Granger with him. Her hands started to slide down towards his trousers and he pushed her away, wiping his mouth. He fled, tears hot in his eyes. He'd sought to make Potter jealous, and realised now it was futile._ *.

Harry Potter curled up in the armchair, his emerald orbs fixed on the roaring fire. The common room was deserted save for him, and the emotion spilled out of him. _Why am I so bothered about who Malfoy sees?_ Harry's head, too, was filled with whys. He'd never, not once, felt any positive way towards Malfoy. Till now. He wasn't even aware that you could have those feelings for the same gender. Harry's cheeks burned profusely with the heat of some unknown sadness and _jealousy_ that hadn't existed before. Salty tears spilled down his face, pooling around his mouth and slipping off his chin, onto his robes. Cries ripped out of his throat and sobs racked his body as he recalled, though he didn't want to, what had happened.*.

 _Harry stared at Malfoy, and felt Ron and Hermione staring too, or perhaps they were looking at Parkinson. Malfoy's beautiful eyes locked onto his. Harry knew what was about to happen by the way Malfoy took Parkinson's waist, by the tension in their muscles as she took his neck. And then their lips attached. Malfoy initiated it, and that made it all the worse. An odd but terrible feeling welled up inside of him. He wanted to kill Parkinson, to hit her with an Unforgivable Curse_ right _where she stood. He wanted to_ hurt _her, hurt her like he'd never hurt anyone before. Instead, he ran.*._

Draco knew he would soon have to go back to the common room. But he did not want to. He did not want to do anything. He felt numb. Yet he picked himself up, brushing off lint from his robes, putting his arrogant facade back in place. He set off at a stride down the corridors towards the cold dungeons, his legs moving automatically while his mind systematically broke itself into tiny pieces. He didn't feel the freezing temperatures of the hall outside the common room. The password tumbled out of his mouth, and he stepped inside to see Pansy. "Draco, I've been waiting for ages, we need to discuss our arrangements, our relationship, how far it'll go." She spoke quickly in a high voice that made Draco feel sick.

"Get. _Away_." He snarled and walked past her.

"Wh-wha-what are you saying, Draco?" She fluttered her eyelashes in a way that furthered his annoyance.

"I said get away. Leave me alone. It meant nothing. It was terrible, disgusting, I wish I'd never done it. _It. Meant. Nothing."_ He whispered harshly, his tone threatening. Pansy whimpered and ran away to the girls' dormitory, a couple of her friends fussing over her. Draco went to _his_ dormitory. Footsteps followed him. He whirled, fist raised. Then he lowered it. "Draco... What's going on mate? You kissed her, and now this... You look like hell, and, your arm..." Blaise Zabini trailed off towards the end of his sentence. He reached out towards Draco, who recoiled. "Leave me." Draco choked out, sitting on his four poster bed. Blaise sat beside him. "Don't think I haven't noticed those scars. Don't think I haven't realised that _something_ is going on in your head. Don't think that I don't _care_." Blaise stared at him. Draco traced the latest scar with his finger.

"Blaise, please, leave it." He whispered.

"No." Blaise laid a hand on Draco's, and felt the flinch. Draco was compelled to tell his friend, but couldn't. It just wouldn't come out.

"Open up to me." Blaise pleaded.

"I can't." Draco replied.*.

Harry turned around slowly. Ron and Hermione came down from the stairs above. "Harry, are you okay? It's just, you've been down here alone for an hour, Ron told me, and... it's unlike you, I suppose." Hermione said, concern in her voice. Harry smiled weakly. She sat beside him, and Ron sat the other side. Ron offered him a Bertie Bott's bean, which Harry refused. Ron ate it; it turned out to be liver. "I need to tell you something. I've been, well, thinking, and I need you to listen, properly." Harry started. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder in a show of support. "Bloody hell, it's not You-Know-Who, is it?" Ron exclaimed.

"No.. it's not that. I... like someone."

"Blimey, why's that such an issue?" Ron asked, yawning.

"Because, well, it's... I mean, I like, well, I think I like-"

"Spit it out then! Give us the gossip!" Hermione hit Ron, who yelped.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry didn't meet their gaze.

" _Draco Malfoy?_ " Ron was incredulous. Hermione rubbed Harry's shoulder and, almost imperceptibly pulled out her wand.

"I know it's weird, him being him, and us being us, and how we've always argued, and his dad's a Death Eater, but-" Harry was nervous now. Hermione sensed Ron's outburst.

"Forget that, he's a _boy_!" Ron said, as if it were an obvious problem.

" _Ronald_!" Hermione shouted at him. She hadn't been expecting that kind of response, and raised her wand threateningly.

"I just mean... that isn't a thing, is it?" Ron looked confused.

"What on earth are you rambling on about?" Hermione asked him. Harry groaned and cradled his head in his hands.

"Look, it isn't done. I'm.. sure." He _did_ sound sure, but there was a crack somewhere.

"It's _legal_ Ronald, for God's sake."

"Maybe in the Muggle world it is! If you live by their rules, maybe you should live as one of them!" Ron's was angry with Hermione's tone as she chastised him. She, in a blind fury, whispered ' _Petrificus Totalus."_ harshly. Ron fell to the floor, frozen in a mask of anger, eyes rolling in their sockets. Hermione levitated him into the boys' dormitory, or at least high enough on the stairs to be out of earshot. "Harry, honestly, don't listen to him. He's being... old fashioned. There isn't a law against it in the magical community, it's just frowned upon. Anyway, attitudes have changed now. It's accepted by, well, some people. I think it's fine." Hermione mentioned tentatively. Harry dipped his head in acknowledgement of her comment. "So, when did you realise?" She asked, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and engage in small talk.

"When he kissed Pansy Parkinson. Hermione, he looked at me the whole time. I'm sure I didn't imagine it." Harry took his hands away from his head and looked at Hermione.

"Harry, I don't want to sound... well, I don't know really, but why would Malfoy look at you?" She asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he, maybe he knows? Maybe he knows, and this is another taunt, another way to get at me?" Harry's voice broke and lapsed into a stutter.

"Maybe." Hermione whispered quietly. Harry got up suddenly and strode away to the boys' dormitory, kicking Ron's prone body as he went.*.

 **This is just the first chapter. I know some people will have an issue with Ron being homophobic. It isn't that _he_ is homophobic, it's to do with his pureblood upbringing (and Auntie Muriel) and he won't stay like that. Most fics I've seen don't have _any_ issues regarding homophobia so I wanted to write one that deals with it, even if I don't write it in a way that the issue deserves. I feel that a community as old and, let's be honest, medieval-fashioned would have many, many homophobic people, maybe even more than our _real_ society. (But then again, is the wizarding community _really_ false? After all, it's in our head, and that doesn't make it any less real.). So, if you don't like what Ron is like in this chapter, don't read it. I needed someone to be, and Blaise and Hermione would never think like that because Hermione is muggle born and Blaise is Blaise. Maybe I'm biased towards Blaise.- Jack.**


	2. 2

**It has been a while. I sincerely apologise! Crazy stuff has been happening, I've been distracted, and it's no excuse. A few people favourited this so I suppose I'm going to prioritise it (at least for now). Thanks for the reviews, just a note for Delia Cerrano: Why would a pureblood, pedigree family support same sex marriages? There would be a much, much smaller chance of flesh-and-blood children to carry on the bloodline. I am still looking for someone to sort of collaborate with (although it would have to be done through email) so if anyone is interested PM me.- Jack.**

Draco Malfoy was used to loneliness. When you put up such a cynical, sarcastic facade as he did, it was just a thing you had to live with. Blaise was always there, of course, but Blaise couldn't give him what he wanted. What he needed. Only Potter could do that. Draco looked across at him during breakfast. Potter wasn't surrounded by adoring fans, as was usually the case. Granger was beside him, but Weasley was nowhere to be seen. Potter looked paler than usual, and was avoiding Draco's gaze. Draco looked down at his empty plate. "Come on, Draco, eat something. We're facing the Gryffindors today." Blaise's voice was full of forced happiness, and Draco saw through it to the concern and pity. He shook his head, got up, and strode out of the Great Hall. Potter looked surprised. No doubt he'd been expecting a snarky comment, Draco thought. He half walked half ran down the cold staircase, his footsteps echoing on the flagstones. He barely murmured the password before entrance to the common room was admitted. When he reached the dormitory, he slammed the door shut, putting a quick colloportus on the lock. And he began to cry. Draco Malfoy, crying on his bed, tears flowing down his face, all over the stupid Boy Who Lived.*.

Ron had made it into the dormitory that night. Harry Potter supposed that Hermione had undone the hex upon him. Ron hadn't said a word, just climbed into his bed and slept. The next morning, he wasn't at breakfast, and Harry was left alone. He felt sick, drained, weak. Hermione was, for once, eating more than him. He pined for Malfoy, wanted him more than anything, and he had to go up against him in Quidditch in less than two hours. "Hermione, I can't play later." He said, looking down.

"You have to. You'll be fine, trust me." Hermione's smile was supposed to be reassuring, but Harry wasn't reassured. What if him and Malfoy ended up against each other in a chase for the snitch? Harry knew he would end up conceding. How could he not? How could he face him? It would surely be impossible.*.

The pace of the game, the speed of the cool air rushing into his face, the hard ground leering up at him as he raced towards it; Draco loved everything about Quidditch. But not this match. Potter kept up the dive beside him, and seemed to struggle, despite how half-hearted Draco felt. The commentator seemed to pick up on it, declaring it the worst Snitch chase she'd ever seen. Draco didn't remember her name, but found himself agreeing with her. He just didn't have the strength to continue, yet his body made him. The movements of flying, committed to muscle memory, happened automatically, Draco's mind numb. The Snitch seemed to back into a corner, and both Seekers screeched towards it. Around a foot away from it, both Seekers stopped.

Both Seekers looked up.

Both Seekers locked eyes.

Both Seekers felt jolts in their hearts.

And both Seekers knew.*.

An air of profuse confusion emanated from the crowd, their hoarse roars slowing and sputtering out, giving way to silence. The Keepers abandoned their posts and zoomed, along with the Beaters and Chasers, towards the two frozen Seekers. Professor McGonagall stood up in her chair, and Harry felt her bewildered gaze on him. Frankly, he didn't care. He didn't care what she thought, or what anyone thought. Forget their stupid Quidditch game. This was about him, about him and Malfoy. His emerald eyes latched onto grey orbs. Jet black hair fell onto the top of his glasses, and an odd expression spread across his face. Harry ran a hand through it, and watched Malfoy bite his lip and shudder. Rain began to fall, perfect tears of water. Harry had an unusual thought float into his mind. Tears seem to follow me and Malfoy everywhere. Tears of regret, despair, longing... and now tears of realisation. Harry knew, without knowing how exactly, that these were not only his thoughts. They were Malfoy's too. Staring into those grey eyes, Harry saw a reflection of his own emotions, of reflection of himself. A reflection of the incredible pull he felt towards Malfoy. The crowd were overcome with confusion as Colin Creevey's Kiss Cam cycled to the two Seekers.

As Ron snatched the Snitch out of frustration and the game was called off, all Harry could think of was that he had to talk to Malfoy.*.

Subterranean corridors and dungeons. The stage of Draco's life. Ever since first year, he'd skulked and sulked in the bowels of Hogwarts. Draco knew that this was no place to meet Potter, but working up nerve was difficult for a boy who'd done pretty much everything backed up by goons and other, more treasured friends. This he had to do alone. Downing the last of his Fire whisky, he kicked off the grimy wall and pulled out his wand. "Lumos." He murmured, moving decidedly towards the general direction of the Trophy Room.*.

"Harry, calm down! Come on, sit down. We've got Charms homework to do." Hermione implored Harry. He was pacing back and forth across the Gryffindor common room, hands tearing at his hair. "I'm telling you, I need to talk to him! He... he feels the same, I'm sure of it." Harry's voice was full of clear, desperate frustration.

"I just don't want you to get hurt. That camera, it could have been faulty. I mean, why would he kiss Pansy Parkinson? I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm not as sure as you are." Hermione ventured tentatively. Usually, Harry would easily detect the concern in his best friend's voice, but now he was too focused on something else entirely. "I'm sorry, too, Hermione, but I have to know. I'm going to the Trophy Room.We had our first duel there. If he feels the same... he'll be there." Harry reached for his Invisibility Cloak.

"I'll wait for you." Hermione promised.*.

" _Homenum Revelio_ ," Draco whispered. Deep down, as the ethereal shadow of the spell flitted from wall to wall and corner to corner, Draco felt it was futile. Potter wasn't there.

Except he was.

A purple outline etched itself in the air, forming the shape of a boy. A boy holding a wand. Draco took a step back in surprise, and his wand fell from his hand. He had thought that it... that he was wrong, that Potter didn't... _want_ him. Delight blossomed within Draco, and then a dark fear. This was all... _wrong_. But none of that mattered when Potter flung off his Invisibility Cloak, cast aside his wand, and slowly stepped towards Draco. "I know that you, you _feel_ it. Just as I do." Potter's words were seemingly strong, but his emerald eyes were pleading with Draco's grey ones, hoping for confirmation.

"For two years." Draco looked down, despite the euphoria of finding out Potter's feelings. It was all so wrong. Draco's parents... they could never know. Yet when Potter put his hands on Draco's waist, pushing him gently into the wall, the inhibitions all dissolved. Potter's eyes leaped out against his soft, mixed tone skin. Draco's head tilted left, and Potter's right. They came in close enough to kiss, and then stopped. "I've been waiting for this." Draco breathed. Potter smiled, and touched his tongue lightly and tantalisingly onto Draco's jawline.

"Wait no longer." Potter whispered. His hands moved to press against the wall underneath Draco's arms, pinning him. Draco shuddered. "I.. I'm so sorry, Potter, for Parkinson, for Quidditch, for everything. I just wanted to make you... _jealous._ " Tears streaked down his face.

"Hush." Draco saw the passion in Potter's eyes, saw that he was forgiven, saw that it didn't matter, not truly. He put his hands on Potter's waist, and leaned into him, only to be pushed back and have Potter press against him. They fit each other's body shape perfectly, each curve matching beautifully. Heat seemed to emanate from both of them. At Potter's touch, Draco came alive. Their lips touched, powerfully, their mouths opening against each other's. Tongues roamed around, twisting exquisitely. As they kissed, they snaked around each other. Potter broke off for air, and Draco move forward, leaving a trail of marks on Potter's neck. He stopped to look at him "This is how it's meant to be."*.

"Oh, Hermione, I don't know what came over me. I wasn't like, well, _me_! I wasn't stuttering, or anything like I was with Ginny, or Cho. I was in control. I was like a different person!" Harry exclaimed through raw lips and shining eyes. Hermione sat on the sofa with Ron next to her. To be fair, they too looked a little exasperated and ruffled, but he glossed over that. And the fact that they were both covered in what seemed to be just their cloaks. "That's wonderful, really it is. But you look a little tired. Maybe you should go to bed? It _is_ 1 o' clock." Hermione said, perhaps a little breathlessly.

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Are you coming up?" Harry went over to the stairs and addressed Hermione only. He'd been angry at Ron ever since his friend's outburst back when he'd admitted to liking Malfoy. "Ummm, no, I think I'll be fine for a bit longer." Hermione exchanged an obvious look with Ron, but Harry didn't really notice.

"Okay!" He said, climbing the steps to his deathly silent dorm.*.

 **Okay Ron'll apologise next chapter I promise. I couldn't fit it in here. Do you want to see a heartwarming date next or a more heated sort of scene? ;) -Jack.**


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